Absolute Power
by Flaming Trails
Summary: A Hell Valley fic: Biff reflects on his wedding day to Lorraine. Back To The FanFic challenge fic.


Absolute Power

By Flaming Trails

A BTTF: Trilogy Story

Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF. If I did, Biff would change that jogging suit more often. Whoof.

_Notes: Written for the November backtothefanfic LJ challenge. The title comes from the cliche "Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely."_

Friday, August 10th, 1973

Hill Valley

2:41 P.M.

There was a crowd of photographers, reporters, newscasters, and just other random well-wishers gathered outside the church by the time Biff and Lorraine exited. Biff felt a swell of pride at seeing them all. Now this – _this_ was the good life.

Lorraine didn't seem to be enjoying it, though. She was frowning at everyone, looking like she wanted to be any place other than here. Ah well. She'd get used to it. In the meantime, Biff practically had to drag her down the chapel steps and toward the waiting limo. He didn't know and didn't care where her kids were. Today was all about them.

A reporter stuck a microphone in his face. "How does it feel, Mr. Tannen?"

How did it feel? It made him feel like the king of the world. Once again, he mentally gave thanks to the mysterious old man who had dropped into his life one cool November's day. How could he have ever doubted him? That Sports Almanac had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. He'd always wanted to become rich and famous. To have the luxuries he'd seen Hill Valley's upper class enjoying – fast cars, big houses, beautiful women. It had always seemed to him like everybody else got everything, while the Tannens wallowed in the dirt.

Then the old man came, with a book that he claimed predicted the outcome of every sporting event til the end of the century. Biff had been skeptical at first – his dad had been a master at get-rich-quick schemes, so Biff felt he had an advantage in sniffing them out. But then, on the ride home from the Enchantment Under the Sea dance – an embarrassment Biff didn't like to think about too often – he had checked the scores in the Almanac with the ones on the radio.

And to his astonishment, they had all matched.

After that, he'd started making plans for the future. He'd bought a safe, just like the old man had told him to, and kept the book in there whenever he didn't have it on him. He got his grandma and a few older acquaintances to make bets for him while he was still underage, reluctantly splitting the winnings. He'd studied every page of the book religiously. And then, on March 26th, 1958 – his 21st birthday – he casually strolled into the local racetrack, bet 20 bucks on a longshot – and walked away with a million dollars.

It had all been so easy after that. Within a few years, he was one of the most famous people in the United States, known and admired by all. He loved the title they had given him – "The Luckiest Man on Earth." Oh, if only they knew, if only they knew. He dated the prettiest starlets, bought a fleet of beautiful cars, and constructed a huge house on the edge of town. Sure, there were a few road bumps along the way – he'd had to pay off a ton of mobs to keep himself from ending up on hit lists across the country, and the income taxes had been a _killer_ – but it was all worth it in the end.

He'd only been deprived of one thing – Lorraine. Despite all his wealth and power, Lorraine had refused to come anywhere near him. She'd been devoted to George McFly. Just thinking about it made Biff sick. What the hell did George have that he didn't? _He_ was the one with everything – big house, beautiful car, and money out the wazoo. George was nothing compared to him! So the geek got in one lucky punch once. So what? How did that make him better?!

Finally, after years of watching George fight against his empire and father three kids with _his_ girl, it got to be too much. Biff decided it was time for George to go. Though he knew he could easily pay a hit man to take care of the upstart author, he wanted to do the killing himself. He wanted to see George McFly fall before him, just like old times. So, after bribing some cops and buying a new gun, he sent George a fake notice that he'd won an award for his work against BiffCo. George fell for it hook, line, and sinker. One gunshot later on an out of the way road, Lorraine McFly was a widow.

Biff smirked at that. Thinking about that night always made him smile. George had just looked so _surprised_. It had felt so good to shoot that freak and make him pay for stealing Lorraine. To make him pay for all the trouble he'd caused him. It would have been better if George had begged for his life, but all in all, it had been a very satisfying experience.

After that, it was just a matter of carefully arranging the evidence to suggest that Lorraine herself had shot her husband. Biff had let her be hounded by the media and law enforcement for a few days before approaching her – she had to be punished, after all. Then he had swept in and offered to make it all go away, to give her a life of riches and luxury, in exchange for her hand in marriage. Lorraine had seemed disgusted by the prospect – Biff wasn't sure why – but, with three kids to take care of, she'd really had no other choice but to accept. Biff had publically proposed a few days later, and now, here they were, married at last. After two very unsuccessful tries and one spoiled brat of a son, he had the girl he wanted. Well, almost. There were a few – _improvements_ he had in mind. . . .

But all that could wait. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy himself. "Third time's the charm," he told the reporter with a smarmy grin. Then he turned and gave Lorraine the wettest, sloppiest kiss he could, pinning her arms to her sides so she couldn't struggle.

Yeah. . . . This was _power._

The End


End file.
